


The Fall  or, What We Didn't See After Bucky Fell

by Enlyien



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, Mild Gore, nothing too bad though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-26
Updated: 2014-05-26
Packaged: 2018-01-26 14:18:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1691333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enlyien/pseuds/Enlyien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A writing exercise I did to work on descriptive language. But oh did the feels get me.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Fall  or, What We Didn't See After Bucky Fell

Bucky felt the railing break before he heard it. His body had given a jolt, the screech of metal against metal clearly announcing that Steve hadn’t been close to saving him. His eyes met with Steve’s and both of them knew what was happening. Still, the scream that tore from his throat as he fell, one arm stretched towards his friend, his captain, was one of pure terror and sadness. As soon as that metal had broken free of the door, all of Bucky’s future plans shattered with it. His dreams of finding a dame to settle down with after the war, his hopes of having a couple of brats of his own and his wishes of moving into a nice house in a nice neighborhood next to Steve's… all of them were torn from his grasp.

The fall was a lot longer than Bucky thought. Regardless, he screamed all the way down.

There was a sickening crack as Bucky and the chunks of metal hit the ice. The sound echoed through the gorge. Air was knocked from his lungs, silencing his scream. The soldier gasped and wheezed, feeling the sudden, excruciating pain of his arm. He had landed just right on it, snapping it at the elbow, the flesh tearing, leaving the limb attached by a section of skin, not unlike a door hinge.

Bucky had laid there in the snow and ice for God knows how long. Every time he opened his eyes, the pain of his throbbing arm sent tears to his eyes. How many times had he woken like this and cried already? The child-like sobs that left him were heard by no one. Long enough had passed that Bucky’s hopes of Steve coming back for him were beginning to drop like his internal temperature. As a soldier, he knew he had to move to a better place. He’d end up dying of hypothermia before blood loss if he stayed there.

Pulling a knife from his belt, he severed the last bit of skin attaching his near-severed arm. The hand was already blue. Strangely, Bucky noticed, it didn’t hurt any more that before. Leaving the now frozen limb behind, Bucky tried to move. The blood loss left him light-headed and he ended up collapsing into the snow.

 

Bucky was being dragged by the back of his collar before he knew it. The bloody stump was leaving a trail of crimson on the stark white snow, a blaring sign that screamed ‘Steve! I’m here! Find me!’

The people following him were mere silhouettes through his bleary eyes. They were speaking to one another. It sounded like German. Hell, Bucky didn’t know. Gabe was the one with the language knowledge. Speaking of, Bucky wondered in his daze, how the Howling Commandos were doing. Were they looking for him? Or were they focused on the mission of delivering Arnim Zola to Colonel Phillips?

Regardless, by the time their faces came to his mind, Bucky had already lost consciousness again.

 

The searing hot pain of cauterizing a wound woke Sergeant Barnes next. He felt better, more aware. One look at his surroundings and he knew he was in deep. An IV of blood was stuck in his right forearm and the smell of burning flesh stung his nose and made his eyes water. The pain was what made him realize that that was  _his_ body they were cauterizing. His arm. They were tending to him.  _Why?_

Bucky remembered from his days under Arnim Zola’s watchful gaze that Hydra didn’t believe in anesthetics. The memory of the needles were just as painful as the scalpels they used now to cut away the rotten meat. The electric saw that came next made him scream even louder. Despite the pain, Bucky remained awake. Perhaps his body had done enough resting and felt he should be awake for this.

Finally they stopped shaving off parts of his arm. Due to the gangrene that had set in after the break and exposure to the elements, Bucky was left with no remainder of his left arm. The Hydra doctors had cut it down all the way to the shoulder and then cauterized the wound shut. Bucky's throat was hoarse from screaming.

Now was the time that he finally got a pain reliever. It went in through his IV alongside the blood transfusion. Bucky thanked all the gods that existed for that relief.

While the anesthetic was running through his veins, not enough to put him under of course, the doctors started putting what looked like circuitry into his shoulder where they had just cauterized. It was uncomfortable, but Bucky felt them almost automatically attaching to his nerves, trying to continue what had once been running though his arm.

Next came the metal. Bucky didn't understand a lick of what they were saying (it wasn't like they were talking to him anyway) but it looked as if the metal they were now soldering onto him was valuable. It took a lot of work for them to bend the hundreds of pieces together, each one fitting like a jigsaw puzzle. After an hour or so, Bucky saw what was beginning to look like an arm. But why would they go to this trouble to fix him up?

_"Sergeant James Barnes."_

Bucky seized in the chair, the buckles strapping him to it keeping him from interrupting the work being done on his arm. The voice in his head was like a parasite, feeding off his mind, sucking away the life he once had.

_"The procedure has already started."_

His fists clenched, both of them. Gritting his teeth, the new, cybernetic nerves stinging his whole body. The doctor paid no much, continuing his tinkering with the metal and wiring attaching Bucky's new prosthetic.

_"You will be the new fist of Hydra."_

The contraption descended, covering all of Bucky's head, save for one section that allowed his eye and mouth to be seen. A single, cobalt blue eye darted around, looking from face to face, memorizing, begging, swearing. He would remember these people. He would kill every one of them. They'd regret-

Then the pain started. All Bucky could do was scream through the mouthguard, fists clenched, nails digging into his palm, the sting of blood being drawn creating no relief from the pain in his skull. He couldn't think. He couldn't see. The pain was blocking out everything and anything. No information came, no information left except his screaming.

Then the electricity stopped.

When this happened, the doctors would ask him his name in perfect, mid-western American. When they asked, he answered. In response, the crackling electricity of the machine shocked him for God knows how long again.

"Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes-"

_zap._

"Three-two-five-five-seven."

_zap._

"....James Buchanan...."

_zap._

"Three-two.... Three-two-five-five-seven...."

_zap._

"....Sergeant Barnes..."

_zap._

"James...."

_zap._

_zap._

_zap._

"........Bucky...."

_zap._

 

 

 

The man opened his eyes. His face was blank, his mind was blank. A clean slate for the mission. The only things he needed to know would be given to him before he was released. He asked no questions. He had no vendettas. He simply was.

The other person standing in front of him was writing something on a clipboard. Another man- smaller, squatter- walked up, grinning.

"You are the Winter Soldier."

The man's mouth opened and words tumbled out.

**_"меня зовут зима солдат."_ **

**Author's Note:**

> Yup. Ow. Sorry about that.
> 
> Originally posted on: http://wxntersoldat.tumblr.com/post/86863092211/the-fall-or-what-we-didnt-see-after-bucky-fell


End file.
